He spoke with a personal emotion that surprised the Englishmen, who believed that his relations with the King were painfully strained. They respected him for his loyalty, though none of them had ever liked him, and Somers at least gave him a quiet look of sympathy. Shrewsbury broke out into half-hysterical petulance. "Why are we doing it all? What use is there in any of it? We might as well give it up now as afterwards. I confess that I have not the health or spirit to endure more of it." Mr. Montague smiled; he knew perfectly well the motive behind every action he undertook, and what was the object of his labours. The younger son of a younger son, and ten years ago a Poor Scholar at Cambridge, he was now one of the greatest men in the Three Kingdoms, and able to confer benefits on the Crown. "There is no living in the world on any other terms than endurance," he remarked complacently, "and a financier, your Grace, must learn to face a crisis." "The good God knoweth I am not one," returned the Duke gloomily. "When is the general court to be held?" asked Portland; his one thought to get the money from these men somehow, and return with it to the desperate King. "On the fifteenth," said the Chancellor, "and I have sufficient faith in the patriotism of the shareholders to believe they will stand by His Majesty." Godolphin, who had been so silent hitherto that his presence was scarcely noticed, spoke now from the window-seat. "You have done us a great service, Mr. Montague. I think we should all be very grateful." This came gracefully from a member of that Tory party that had supported Harley’s bank. Mr. Montague bowed, very gratified; my lord had that soft way of conciliating possible enemies with outspoken courtesy. Portland made no such speeches; he considered it only the bare duty of the English to adequately support the King, whose life, ever since his accession, had been one struggle to obtain money from the English Parliament. He took up his hat and saluted the company. "I must endure with what patience I may till the fifteenth," he said, and left them gravely. He went out into the sunny streets of London, and turned towards the Mall. There was no coach waiting for him; he was frugal in his habits to a fault, and uninterested in any kind of display. No one would have taken him for anything but a soldier home from Flanders, tanned at the wars—an obvious foreigner with a stiff military carriage. The town was very empty. The state of anxiety, suspense, and danger the country was passing through was not to be guessed at from the well-kept houses, the few leisurely passers-by, and the prosperous shops with their wares displayed behind neat diamond panes.